


The Politics of Coffee

by Sylvi Turnbull (bitchinachinashop)



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-14
Updated: 2012-06-14
Packaged: 2017-11-07 17:50:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/433769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchinachinashop/pseuds/Sylvi%20Turnbull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A view of the Torchwood team through their choice of beverages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Politics of Coffee

I make the first coffee run every morning at 8 a.m.- that is, if it’s been a ‘normal’ day and everyone’s had the chance to go home and come back again. Jack gets his first because he’s the boss- black and strong in a large white mug. He’s not really alive until he’s had it. In fact, he’s not usually even completely dressed, though whether that’s due to grogginess or just an extra excuse to flirt is open to debate. In any case, it’s best to leave quickly before he’s had a chance to wake up, or a whole morning’s work can quickly go out the window (or hatch).  
  
Owen gets his next, in an effort to keep him from being a complete wanker to Tosh. He takes an obscene amount of sugar, which makes him bounce around the Hub for a good hour if it’s not cut with artificial sweetener. Maybe his bad attitude is really just an imbalance in blood sugar? No, mere low blood sugar couldn’t possibly account for anyone being such a tosser. He is a bit more manageable after meals, though.  
  
Tosh gets hers then, partly because she’s senior to Gwen, but mostly because she always seems to be thought of last, and I want to do my best not to contribute to that mentality. The worst bit is she seems to share it, which is a shame. There’s much more to her than a brilliant mind, and if she could see that herself maybe someone else would have a chance to recognize it. In any case, she gets a half-caf with milk in her kitty-cat mug. She only takes coffee first thing; the rest of the day it’s green tea.  
  
Gwen comes last because she’s just too bloody cheerful to deal with in the morning. Also, she’s the most likely to be late. She takes sugar and milk, but not too much of either. She always smiles and looks me in the eyes when I hand it to her. She’s the only one who bothers. The rest could probably be served for a week by a Weevil and they wouldn’t notice as long as the coffee was decent. Well, for Jack it would have to be a Weevil with a nice bum, I suppose.  
  
The next fifteen minutes are mine, blissfully peaceful in my quiet kitchen corner. I sip my own coffee, black and strong like Jack’s, my feet up, and wait for the next round of chaos to begin.

**Author's Note:**

> For Anna, always.


End file.
